


Sunday School

by EradiKate



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Crack, Discussion of Literary Devices, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23532181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EradiKate/pseuds/EradiKate
Summary: Sebastian Vael agrees to help out a sick Chantry sister by teaching Sunday school in her place.  Unfortunately for him, the class is the Kirkwall crew as children.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	Sunday School

**Author's Note:**

> This is possibly the most ridiculous idea I've ever had.

Sebastian was not prepared for nine little faces to be peering at him so earnestly. Well, some were earnest. One looked dreamy, one looked bored, one wore an expression of amusement, and the last he couldn’t place at all.

“Good morning, children,” he began, unsure of what to do with his hands. He wished he had a book to hold. “My name is Brother Sebastian, and I’m here to teach your class today.” A small hand waved in the air. “Do you have a question?” The boy nodded solemnly. “You may ask it, but first please tell me your name.”

“Carver Hawke. Where’s Sister Elizabeth?” He had a square jaw and a somewhat sulky expression and if Sebastian had to guess, the two dark-haired girls flanking him were his sisters. One elbowed him, the other merely stared.

“She isn’t feeling well today and asked me to help her.” This seemed to satisfy Carver, as he turned his attention to elbowing his sister in return.

“Should we pray for her?” asked a redheaded girl, then covered her mouth with one fist and blushed. “She’s not going to die, is she?”

The tiny elf next to her looked ready to cry. “Aveline! You don’t think she’s that sick, do you? Sister Elizabeth is so nice! And she knows lots of stories!”

Before Sebastian could assure her that no, Sister Elizabeth would be perfectly fine in a few days, the dwarf rolled his eyes and piped up. “Those aren’t stories, Daisy. They’re just parts of the Chant she’s dressed up a little.”

“Better than listening to the Grand Cleric complain about mages,” said a ragged-looking blond boy. “She’s so boring.”

“That will be enough. Grand Cleric Elthina is a very holy woman and mages can be very dangerous.” Sebastian thought that would squash the tiny rebellion taking place in the classroom. “I don’t know what you’ve learned with Sister Elizabeth. Why don’t you ask me any questions you have about the Maker and the Chantry?”

To his relief, the children fell quiet for a minute, each clearly thinking about what to ask. Or so he hoped.   
  
“If the Maker created everything, why did He make peacocks so mean?” The older Hawke sister crossed her arms and kept talking, much to Sebastian’s horror. “I was sent to bring a letter to a big house in Hightown once and those big birds chased me away from the door before I could even knock. Had to get a bigger girl to deliver it for me and she got the coin for it. I don’t like peacocks, I think ducks are much nicer. Why do people keep them? Do rich people eat them? And if they do, why do they just let them walk around their yards like chickens? They poop on everything, you know.”

This last statement was delivered in a matter of fact tone, much to the blond boy’s amusement.

“I don’t think the Maker actually made peacocks. It’s just a story thingy.” The dark-skinned girl fidgeted with one of her scarves as she spoke and Sebastian, in his haze of theological bankruptcy, wondered who had seen to her clothing.

“You mean a metaphor, Isabela?” asked the dwarf. “It’s a pretty bad one.”

“Maybe she means an allegory,” suggested the silver-haired elf, his expression still unreadable.

“They’re the same thing,” the girl who was apparently Isabela retorted.

“No, they’re not!” Varric glared at the girl.

“Then what’s the difference, if you’re so smart?” Varric didn’t answer immediately, and Sebastian thought perhaps here was a chance to right the discussion.

“A metaphor is when something is described as something it cannot literally be. An allegory is when an entire story is used as a metaphor.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Sister Elizabeth could have warned him about this class.

The little elf shook her head. “That’s confusing. Why don’t people just write what they mean?”

Sebastian had never been too certain of that himself but was spared the necessity of answering by the next question.   
  
“Brother Sebastian?” The smaller of Carver’s sisters raised her hand shyly. “I heard a lady in the market say something about Andraste’s tits. I asked my mother what that meant but she didn’t want to answer me. What are tits?”

“Breasts,” answered at least three of the other children at once.

“It’s a swear, Sunshine,” the dwarf explained.

“I swore in the Chantry?!” The little girl turned scarlet as her older sister tried and failed to hide her laughter. “I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s all right,” Sebastian tried to comfort her. “I’m sure if you pray to Andraste and the Maker, they’ll forgive you.”

Privately, though, Sebastian could sympathize. Maker’s teeth, who knew that children could be so difficult?


End file.
